She stumbled back. The room swirled, along with his stricken, bloodstained face.
“ ’Tis no’ what ye think.” He stepped toward her, the woman’s arm dangling from a blood-smeared metallic hand.
Red, bloodlike dots flickered before her eyes, then Leah did something she’d never done before.
She fainted.
Chapter Six
“The devil take it, man, what the hell happened?” Angus shouted in the security office.
Dougal squared his shoulders. “ ’Twas my fault. I’ll explain it to Dr. Chin—”
“The hell ye will!” Angus interrupted him. “Ye’ve terrorized her enough for one evening.”
Dougal glanced at the monitors but couldn’t spot her anywhere. Seeing the pale, horror-stricken look on Leah’s face had caused his grip on VANNA’s arm to finally relax. The arm had hit the floor just seconds before Leah had crumpled, and his heart had plummeted along with them. How would she ever see him as anything but a hideous monster?
Her scream and collapse had caused all the partygoers to come running. And there he’d stood in the dark conference room, his kilt askew, his hair wild, his face and clothes splattered with blood, while half-naked VANNA reclined on the table, looking thoroughly ravished and dismembered. Leave it to Gregori to comment she was still smiling.
“Where is Dr. Chin?” Dougal asked.
“Gregori carried her down to a bedroom in the basement. Ye willna see her on a monitor. Emma told me she insisted they turn the camera off.”
So she was awake. “How is she?”
“She’s demanding we call the police and turn you in for sexual assault and battery.” Angus grimaced. “It looked like ye were—”
“I wasna tupping a rubber wench!” Dougal’s heart plummeted even farther. Did Leah think he was a rapist?
“Well, we can be grateful for that,” Angus muttered. “But ye still ripped her bloody arm off. Is that what ye call meek as a lamb?”
Dougal sighed. He could look like either an incompetent fool or a violent sex offender. “My prosthesis locked onto VANNA’s arm and wouldna let go. I dinna want anyone to see, so I took her to the nearest conference room—”
“Yer hand is malfunctioning?” Angus interrupted.
“ ’Twas no’ responding to my mind control.” Dougal closed his fist and opened it. “ ’Tis working now, but I’ve been having trouble on and off all evening.”
Angus gave him an exasperated look. “Ye should have said something. Roman and Abby can examine the hand to see what’s wrong with it. If it’s broken, they can fit you with a new one.”
Dougal sat heavily in a chair. “I doona think it is the hand’s fault. I know I should have told you, but I dinna want to look incompetent.”
Angus leaned against the desk, studying the prosthesis. “Yer fist locks and doesna release?”
“Aye. So when I turned toward the door, VANNA’s arm came with me.”
Angus snorted. “Then ye would have an excellent grip on a sword. I think ye can still do security here.”
Dougal exhaled with relief. “Thank you.”
“In fact, ’tis best for you to remain here, where Roman and Abby can work with you to get the problem fixed.” Angus sighed. “But until then, we’ll have to remove you from the mission roster.”
Dougal groaned inwardly. “I understand.”
Angus grabbed a new MacKay S&I polo shirt off a bookcase shelf and tossed it to him. “Put this on and clean yerself up. I’ll tell Emma what happened so she can explain it to Dr. Chin. Hopefully, she’ll still agree to help us with our guest in the basement.”
Dougal glanced at the monitor that showed the silver room and the captive soldier still in stasis. Would Leah want to help? Or had he frightened her so badly that she would wish only for escape?
As he strode to the restroom, his old vow reverberated inside his head. I will find you. No matter what. If it takes a thousand years, I will find you.
Another sizzle skittered along the length of his tattoo, and he rolled his right shoulder to relieve the itch. Why was it bothering him after all this time? The last time he’d felt it had been after the battle of Culloden when he had crawled beneath a bush to die. As his lifeblood had seeped from his wound, he’d imagined Li Lei sitting next to him, promising him that someday they would be together again. He had murmured yes as comforting heat had spread along his tattoo, lulling him into the deep sleep of the dead.
He knew now that it was Connor who had sat beside him and his “yes” had been interpreted as an agreement to join the ranks of the Undead. He’d awakened a vampire, and for centuries the tattoo had remained as cold as his Undead heart.
Had Leah awakened the dragon? Could she bring his half-dead soul back to life? Unfortunately, after waiting close to three hundred years, he was in danger of losing her before he could even talk to her. If she demanded to leave, they would teleport her back home and erase her memory.
He had to see her tonight. Before he lost his chance.
Leah stiffened when Gregori walked into the room carrying a woman in his arms like a sack of potatoes.
“Don’t worry.” Abby perched beside her on the bed. “I asked him to bring her here so you could see she’s not real. This is VANNA Black, the sister to the doll you saw with Dougal.”
Leah watched as Gregori set the lifelike woman in an easy chair. “Why is she dressed like a cheerleader?”
Abby gave her husband a wry look. “Good question.”
“I didn’t do it,” Gregori mumbled. “Phineas must have dressed her like this before he got married.”
Leah shook her head. A few minutes earlier, Abby had explained that VANNA was a failed experiment the guys kept around as a joke, but it all sounded a bit crazy to her. “And this doll is supposed to keep vampires from attacking us?”
“You don’t need to worry about being attacked.” Emma sat in the other easy chair, facing the bed. “The Vamps are morally opposed to it.”
Leah scoffed. “They’re vampires. How moral can they be?”
Emma smiled slightly. “Well, I can speak on the matter with some knowledge, since I’ve become a Vamp myself.”
“Oh.” Leah winced. “I . . . didn’t mean to offend.”
Emma’s smile widened. “You haven’t. There was a time when I hated vampires. But then I got to know them better. You see, the Malcontents imprisoned me with Angus and let him go hungry so he’d have no choice but to bite me. For several nights he restrained himself. He was starving to death, biting himself, and I even caught him climbing on a table where the sunlight would hit him.”
Abby gasped. “He was going to commit suicide?”
Emma nodded. “Yes. He was ready to die rather than harm me. I had to beg him to bite me so he could survive.”
“So vampires retain a sense of right and wrong?” Leah asked.
“Death cannot change a person’s character,” Emma explained. “Bad people become evil vampires, and good guys like Angus—well, he’s my hero.”
Leah hated to admit it, but Emma’s story sounded a bit romantic. “And you’re married to him now?”
“Yes. We’re very happy.” Emma’s smile grew wistful. “He reminds me of a historical hero—Braveheart or Rob Roy. And the way he talks—it still melts my heart.”
Abby nodded in agreement. “There’s something about a guy in a kilt. I’ve been trying to talk Gregori into getting one.”
He snorted. “I’m not wearing a damned skirt.”
A vision of Dougal flitted through Leah’s mind. She’d thought he was wonderfully attractive until she’d caught him assaulting a woman. Or a doll. “I still don’t understand why Dougal was attacking a rubber doll.” She shuddered, remembering the shock of seeing the arm rip off and the blood squirt out.
The room grew silent. Emma and Gregori exchanged a worried look.
“I-I’m sure he had a reason,” Abby mumbled.
“Like he’s a violent pervert?” Leah asked.
; Abby winced. “He never struck me that way. I always thought he was shy.”
“Actually,” Gregori said, “I don’t think he approved of us bringing you here. He questioned if we had the right to drag you into our world.”
Leah sat up. Was that why he’d looked so tense and agitated when everyone else had been cheerful? Was he actually on her side? She shook that thought away. He was a violent, wild person. She didn’t dare trust him.
Emma’s cell phone rang. “It’s Angus. I’ll take this in the hall.” She hurried from the room.
Gregori picked VANNA up and headed for the door. “I’ll get rid of this.”
“Permanently, I hope,” Abby muttered, then shifted on the bed to look at Leah. “So you’re okay now?”
“I guess.” Leah shrugged. “Did you have a hard time accepting all this supernatural stuff?”
“Not too hard. I was desperate to find some plants in China that I thought would help my sick mother, but it seemed impossible. That’s when my father arranged for the vampires to teleport me there.”
“So you were well motivated to accept them.”
“Exactly.” Abby smiled. “The Vamps and shifters took me there and protected me.” Her smile faded. “At one point, we were captured by Master Han, and while we were escaping, one of the bad guys came at me with a sword. Gregori jumped in front of me and was stabbed in the back. I almost lost him.” She blinked away some tears and smiled. “I cry way too easily these days. Must be the hormones.”
Leah slid off the bed and paced across the room. Abby and Emma made their husbands sound like heroes. Undead heroes fighting against the supernatural forces of evil. It sounded as fanciful as the stories her grandfather used to tell her.
Grandpa had always said there was a world beyond science, a magical world that could not be explained with logic. Her mother had warned her to pay no attention to his silly tales. Grandpa could never stroll along a rocky shore without looking for a selkie, or roam the green fields without searching for the fae. He had claimed his Uilleann pipes could entice the leprechauns to come out of hiding.
Mom had rejected her father and Ireland. She’d moved to the States to study at MIT, and there she’d fallen in love with a brilliant physics professor, Dr. Kai Ling Chin.
Leah had been raised on a strict, home-school regimen of science and rationalism. Her mind had thrived on it. But her heart had loved the one magical summer she’d spent with Grandpa. Her parents had been invited to speak at several prestigious conferences, and her two teenage brothers were already in college. After realizing that a nine-year-old girl was too young to fend for herself all summer, her parents had shipped her off to Ireland.
Grandpa had made her feel loved instead of abandoned. And wonderfully free. She’d danced barefoot in the meadow while he’d serenaded her with the pipes. She’d gathered flowers without learning their names in Latin. And she’d reveled in Grandpa’s stories where nothing was what it seemed. If he were still alive, he would laugh and drink a toast to this bizarre, new world she’d stumbled into.
So what should she do? Run back to her safe, secure world that made sense and followed the rules? Where dead people remained dead without waking up and craving blood, and humans remained human without shifting into killer cats? Her parents would say run. It was the logical choice.
But Grandpa would lean close to her ear and whisper, “Life is an adventure, lass. Live it to the fullest, and never look back.”
If she were fanciful like Grandpa, she would suspect that somehow his spirit had guided her here. She recalled the odd feeling that had swept over her earlier. As if her whole life had been a series of small steps leading her to this one moment in time. Fate.
She shook her head. She was too logical to believe in fate. Her decisions had been her own. She was master of her own destiny. She’d accepted the perfect job, one that required a physician and geneticist. And Dr. Lee had offered great benefits and an outstanding salary. Because the Vamps wanted you.
She’d been drawn into this world on purpose. Fate. And she’d felt it the first time she saw him. Dougal. The Undead pervert who ripped arms off lifelike sex toys. She could almost hear her grandfather’s cackling laughter.
“Dougal!” Emma’s voice yelled in the hallway. “You shouldn’t go in there.”
Leah spun toward the door, her heart thudding.
“Angus told me about your prosthesis malfunctioning,” Emma continued. “I’ll explain it to Leah.”
Prosthesis? Leah’s thoughts raced as she searched her memory. The room had been dark, but she’d clearly seen the blood splatter across Dougal’s pale face and white shirt, the shocked expression on his face, and the bloody arm clutched in his hand. A metallic, bloodstained hand. A vampire with a prosthetic hand? And, apparently, a malfunctioning one. Did that mean the bloody assault had been nothing more than an accident?
When a deep voice responded, she stepped closer to the doorway.
“ . . . my fault. I should apologize. I frightened her out of her wits.”
She smiled to herself. He had pronounced out like “oot.” And his lilting accent sounded like sweet, soothing music. She slapped herself mentally. What was she thinking? That a vampire was attractive? His voice and handsome looks hardly made up for the fact that he was a bloodsucker. And why was she so eager to excuse the assault as a simple accident? He had looked like a wild man, his hair flying and his voice roaring in anger.
Her heart jolted when his large frame filled the open doorway, and his gaze immediately fixed on her. Green, expressive eyes that studied her intently.
He was even bigger close up. His navy polo shirt clung to every muscled contour of his chest and shoulders. He still wore his bright and colorful kilt, made of a green, black, and red plaid. Green knee socks hugged his muscular calves.
He stood with his feet wide apart and his hands at his sides. His right hand was gray and metallic. A series of tiny clicking noises emanated from it as he curled it into a fist. Was it strong enough to tear a real person’s arm off?
She eased back a step, then lifted her gaze to his face. To the injured look in his eyes.
“I doona blame you for being afraid of me,” he said softly. “But I willna harm you.”
She squared her shoulders. “I’m not afraid.”
His eyes softened. His skin was pale, a stark contrast to the dark whiskers lining his chiseled jaw and the long black hair brushed neatly back and tied in a ponytail at the base of his neck.
A wide brow, high cheekbones, strong chin, and an abundance of lean muscle in all the right places. He was the type of man who could actually be called beautiful and still be wonderfully masculine.
A shame he was dead.
A bigger shame that she found him so appealing. Vampire, she reminded herself. Strong and wild enough to rip a woman’s arm off.
She lifted her chin. “You were watching me on the cameras, weren’t you? Did you enjoy the show? Was my performance amusing?”
His eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Nay. I dinna enjoy it.” He stepped into the room. “But I thought ye were verra brave and strong.”
Her heart squeezed in her chest.
Emma walked into the room, pocketing her cell phone. “Well? Are you going to explain, or shall I?” she asked Dougal.
“I will.” He turned to Leah and lifted his right hand. “My hand locked on VANNA’s arm. The prosthesis wouldna obey my command to release. I dinna mean to tear her arm off. ’Twas an accident.”
That was a relief. Sorta. He had still reacted like a wild man. The volcano might be sleeping now, but who knew when he would erupt again? Leah’s eyes narrowed on his hand. “How do you command it to do things?”
He hesitated. “Mind control.”
She suppressed a shudder. He probably had the power to tamper with her mind like Dr. Lee had done. “Then what was malfunctioning—the hand or your mind?”
Dougal winced. “My mind, I think.” He rolled his right shoulder. “I’m no�
� crazy. I just lost control. I’m no’ sure why.”
Well, at least he seemed honest. It would have been so much easier for him to claim mechanical failure. “How did you lose your hand?”
“In battle.” He shifted his weight. “I’m no’ a bad swordsman. I was outnumbered. Five to one.”
“You were fighting with swords?”
“Aye. I lunged at one, and another one sliced my hand off. It turned to dust.”
Leah grimaced. “That had to be awful to see.”
“It dinna feel verra good, either.”
“You can . . . feel pain?”
He gave her a wry look. “Ye think my feelings are dead?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
He lifted one brow. “I can feel anything ye can.”
One look at his expressive eyes and she knew that was true.
He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “May I have a word with you, lass?”
Her heart fluttered. She hadn’t been called a lass since the last time she’d seen her grandfather. Odd, but this man was probably older than her grandfather, even though he looked fairly young, only a few years older than herself.
“In private,” he added.
“Not a good idea,” Emma said. “We can’t have you scaring her away.”
He cast an annoyed look at her. “Verra well.” He turned back to Leah, and his dark brows quirked slightly with a questioning expression. “Do ye wish to leave?”
Her breath caught. “Leave?”
“Aye. If ye want to go home, I can take you.”
He was on her side. A burst of warm hope spread through her chest. She could go home. Dougal would help her.
“Dougal,” Emma warned him.
“Aye, I ken.” He shot her an irritated look. “Ye want to drag the puir lass into our world and our problems. But has anyone asked her what she wants?” He shifted his gaze back to Leah. “We have no right to keep you here. If ye want to go, I can teleport you home right away.”
Leah blinked. “Teleport?”
“Dougal,” Emma spoke more sharply. “We need her.”
“She doesna need us.”
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